Nothing more than ultraviolet light was truly needed for the augmented vision of the CADRE cyborgs, but the full spectrum lighting in their new base helped them maintain contact with what humanity they had that remained. Two cyborgs, nearly fully converted to artificial bodies, were presently carrying four others to the recycling area. “I think that’s the last of them. I can’t believe all the former Doom Guard Chaplains we had committed suicide like that,” said the one on the left.

	“I can,” said the one on the right. “They couldn’t use any of their powers anymore, not the ones they had when we were flesh. Besides,” he added, “not like the rest of us miss ‘em anyways.”

	“True. Hey, Larry, I just realized something!” he exclaimed. “This body has an Adrenaline Override... that freaky dragon’s fear power can’t do nothin’ to us!”

	“You mean you just found that subroutine? Moe an’ I found that one last Tuesday.” He chuckled. “An’ ya can turn it off, if ya wanna get excited about somethin’.”

	Resounding footsteps down the hall caught their attention, and their optics rapidly identified the oncoming figure, and the snapped to attention. “Lieutenant Glaive, welcome back! How was your mission?” asked Larry.

	“A resounding success,” he noted, as he tossed the trenchcoat and hat he had been wearing into the incinerator. “Just be ready when the word comes. I’m certain the Commander will want to attack them as soon as possible.”

	Leaving behind his fellows, Glaive turned, and marched down a small corridor. At the end was a door, which opened on to an elevator when he depressed the control pad next to it. Stepping in, he said, “Command level”, then watched the doors close, and felt the acceleration of the small car. Acceleration was one of the few things he could actually feel anymore, rather than simply having a readout superimposed on his vision, and he savored the sensation.

	The doors opened onto a clean, bright hallway, decorated sparsely yet tastefully with various landscapes and furnishings. Pausing only for a moment to examine a single rose in its vase, idly noting that he wished he could actually smell it once more, he sighed, and continued to his destination.

	Two unusually large full cyborgs stood on either side of the double doors at the end of the hall. “I was given orders to make my report directly to the Commander,” stated Glaive. One cyborg tilted his head for a brief moment, then they both stepped aside, out of his way. Opening the door, he entered, and immediately assumed the position of attention, waiting to be acknowledged.

	Earthshaker, the leader and mightiest member of CADRE, was currently holding audience with the six human technicians his minions had recently... liberated... from a secret corporate laboratory. “So you see, we would like for you to become absolutely familiar with our workings. Just in case there’s anything that could interfere with... my mission. You do understand, don’t you?”

	One technician looked puzzled, but the others realized what he was saying. “Yes, s-sir. I u-understand,” stuttered the oldest of them. “But it may take quite a while. Your systems are so much more advanced than anything we’ve dealt with...”

	Earthshaker placed one metallic hand on the man’s shoulder. “Do not worry. As long as you complete this task I have set before you, no harm shall come to you. Or to your families. They shall be adopted by us, as well, and brought into our safekeeping.” He tightened his grip slightly, not enough to injure the man, but enough to drive his point home. “If you fail, nothing can be guaranteed.” He released the man. “Now leave. Go to your assigned workstations. I have other business to attend to.”

	Glaive waited until the technicians had left, then regarded his commander. Earthshaker stood nearly seven feet tall, taller than most other cyborgs save for the massive fully converted behemoths, such as the ones that guarded the door. Part of his human face was still visible, though it was actualy synthetic flesh over a biomechanical replica of his face, and a large energy weapon, with cables tying it directly in to his internal power plant, was mounted on his left upper arm. Two modules rested on either side of the back-mounted plant, which Glaive knew could extend into winglets, to help the module mounted thrusters guide him in a rocket-like flight. The Commander’s durability, strength, and speed were also far beyond the average member of CADRE, to better maintain his absolute authority over them. Yet most imposing of all was his stance, and his expression. Here was one of total power, whose every word would be carried out with fanatical fervor by those under him, whether or not he was more powerful. He was the leader, and it showed.

	“Your report, Lieutenant Glaive,” he stated.

	The smaller cyborg nodded. “Your message was delivered. As you had expected, the alien had modified the vehicle to greater protect its occupants, and likely has made other modifications to the other vehicles, and to the compound itself. The driver and his passenger suffered only minor injuries, with the driver suffering a broken leg and both individuals suffering only minor surface bruises and first degree burns.”

	“Excellent. Lieutenant, send word to Lieutenant Decibel. He is to begin the operation we had previously discussed.” He turned and strode to his desk. “You are dismissed.”

	“If I may, sir?”

	“What is it?” asked the larger cyborg as he began to sort through folders on his desk.

	“May I ask why you have taken human technicians instead of requesting Domain technicians?” Glaive then regretted his question, for he had finally figured out the answer himself.

	“Ah, good Glaive, I would not DREAM of bothering our benefactors more than neccessary. After all, should they deem we are in need of their specific aid, they have their monitoring devices to keep an eye on us.” His cybernetic eye flashed briefly as a feral grin spread across his face. “Now, do you understand? And, yes, the technicians understand their mission perfectly.”

	“Thank you sir. Understood sir.” Glaive took one step back, and performed an about-face, then marched out of Earthshaker’s office. As he passed the two huge guards, he marveled to himself, thinking, ‘How in the world did he word his request? If he said the wrong thing, the Domain would know we’ve asked the technicians to figure out how to remove the monitoring and control devices...’

********************************************

	Darkenwulf handed a small packet of papers to Anthony. “Here, this is a training regimen I have devised that, coupled with the dietary supplements I am providing for you, should reduce your recovery time by half. At the worst, it will take you one and a half months to be back at your full potential. In the meantime, avoid strenuous activity save for that regimen.”

	“Great. So how do I keep in shape?” asked Anthony. “In a month and a half, I’ll lose five minutes on my morning run time.”

	“Not so. With that regimen, you should be able to maintain at least a certain level of physical capability. You should lose no more than two minutes, perhaps three.” The lupine alien then chuckled, an unusual whuffing noise. “Of course, you could always follow the directions of your human doctor, and be recovering for more than three to six months, losing well over ten minutes on your time, and perhaps being unable to complete the full distance before exhaustion takes over.”

	“Nah, you got me, Doc.” Anthony folded the sheets, and put them in his back pocket. “I... I also want to thank you.. If it wasn’t for what you did to the car, Rache and I wouldn’t be here, now.”

	“I do what I can. I may not be as useful on the field of battle as, say, Black Tiger, but I will contribute everything I am able to Legion and the Hostel. This place is as much the manifestation of an ideal as Freedom Force is.” Darkenwulf looked up, and outwards, eyes unfocusing slightly. “But where Freedom Force’s ideal is stated in their name, Legion’s ideal is family. We are all family.”

	“Yeah, I guess we are at that.” Reaching down, Anthony picked up his crutches. “Well, gotta go. And you do to. It’s time for todays hand-to-hand training.”

	Darkenwulf frowned as best as his lupine muzzle could simulate. “If you teach class today, or until my regimen is complete, it will be from a chair, do you understand me, Jarhead?” he mock growled.

	“Heh, yeah, yeah, yeah... I got it, Dee-Wee.” Together, they left the infirmary, and headed off to the gymnasium.